New Avalon
by JjRavenclawFromDistrict11
Summary: FUTURE!FIC Merlin has been waiting over a thousand years for Arthur's return. He hasn't aged since his friend's death, but takes on the guise of an old man to avoid suspicion. But when Bradley James, a rich kid obsessed with Arthurian legends, turns 21, Merlin begins aging again. A year later, they meet, and the adventure that follows will change everything.
1. Chapter 1

_**Chapter 1**_

…

Merlin's life wasn't the same after Arthur died.

He hadn't spent more than a day or two away from the man for years, ever since he became the Arthur's servant. Being left alone wasn't something Merlin had allowed himself to consider, but suddenly, it was his reality. He spent a lot of time alone, mostly only talking to Gaius and to Gwen. Arthur had been the most important person in his life, his king, sure, but also his best friend and a part of his destiny. Without Arthur, Merlin was lost.

It took Merlin about a month after Arthur's death to realize he'd stopped aging. Actually, it was more than that. You don't really notice yourself aging. It was more like Merlin had… frozen. His hair stopped growing. He didn't need to eat or sleep as much. He almost didn't even feel _alive_.

He started drinking then. He'd had a few nights right after Arthur's death where he drank until he blacked out, but he knew he couldn't allow that. So drank just enough to dull the pain, using it like a medicine, and he forced himself to continue.

Years passed, with no change. He continued on, drinking a little more every year when it wasn't working any more, all the while just trying to forget the sadness consuming him. He watched Gaius grow older and weaker. Then he watched Gaius die.

He'd always known he would see Gaius die. But that didn't make it easier. Gaius was like a father to him, and losing him was as painful as losing Arthur.

But still, he continued on. He had to. He watched over Gwen and the Knights of Camelot, making sure that they lived long, full lives. If one of them was injured or caught disease, he would save them. But that didn't last forever. Soon, they began dying too.

In time, Gwen died too. Sir Leon's oldest son, Rupert, became king. His father had taught him well in politics and in kindness. Unfortunately, Sir Leon didn't live to see it, as he'd died a year previous.

Merlin advised King Rupert, and his son, and his son's son. But, when Leon's great-grandson died, Merlin couldn't continue any more. He left Camelot to live alone in the wilderness. He didn't want to see anyone else die.

Merlin remembered people he'd encountered whose wish was to live forever. Merlin wondered, if they knew what it was really like, would they still want that? Would anyone choose to live on as everyone they ever knew or cared for died in front of them?

There were times that Merlin wanted to die. He wasn't really sure if he could, but he wanted to. The only thing that stopped him was the knowledge that, someday, Arthur was fated to return, and he had to be there. It was a small light at the end of a very long tunnel.

After a while, Merlin got tired of seeing his face the way it was. He hated looking the same way he had when Arthur died. He hated looking young, when he knew he wasn't. He felt old. So he decided to take on an old disguise, as "Dragoon the Great", though that's certainly not what he called himself. He took the potion for a while, before finally realizing that he didn't need it. His magic had grown much stronger after Gwen removed the ban on magic, and it grew even stronger when he started living alone, as he used it then to satisfy his basic needs. After a few years, Merlin grew accustomed to keeping up the disguise, to where it didn't even bother him anymore to maintain. And, while at first, it had made his eyes gold all the time, over a few decades, it faded into a thin ring of gold around the natural blue.

He also stopped drinking. He knew he had to stop, he was drinking so much by then. He knew it probably wouldn't kill him if it hadn't already, but he didn't feel right about it. So he forced himself to slow down. Every year, he forced himself to drink one less pint a day. When he started he was drinking almost a keg per day. He quit slowly, but he knew he had time.

After the first century, when he'd finally gotten down to drinking nothing and had kept doing that for a year, Merlin came out of his solitude. He moved to a small town, and became the local physician. However, he took on a new name, "Colin Morgan", which he kept. Every decade or so, he would move to a new town and do the same thing.

He noticed that his older appearance seemed to help keep away suspicion. People took him seriously, assuming he had more life experience because of his age. He tried reverting back to his ordinary appearance once, just to see if it would work. It didn't. No one wanted to hire a 25 year-old claiming to be a qualified physician.

Plus, Merin always seemed sad (because he was), and people were less likely to talk to him about it when he looked like an old man. Old men are often sad.

After two centuries, Merlin decided to do something new. He had been thinking that, when Arthur returned, he would come to the Isle of the Blessed. Merlin wasn't sure how exactly he'd come to that conclusion, he supposed it was just several centuries' worth of thinking about it.

So Merlin moved closer to the Isle of the Blessed, to the outskirts of a larger city. He started farming a small area, using a bit of magic to help his plants out, and he would sell his products in town. And, once a week, he would go back to the Isle of the Blessed. Often times, he would just sit there, looking over the water.

When people got a bit too nosy or suspicious, which happened after a few decades, he moved to the outskirts of another town near the Isle of the Blessed. Then, when those people got suspicious, he moved back to the first city.

This routine continued for many centuries afterward.

As the world progressed, so did Merlin. He forced himself to keep in touch with society, so that he knew who was in charge, what the laws were, et cetera.

But he never drank. Merlin didn't allow a single drop of alcohol into his body after he'd quit. Sometimes it was hard, but he did it. For Arthur. For Gaius. For Gwen. And for himself.

Days, months, and years blended together. Merlin kept track of important dates in history, but mostly forgot about holidays.

The only holidays Merlin really remembered were New Year's Eve and New Year's Day. Those days, he always spent by the Isle of the Blessed, which tended to be especially quiet then.

The one New Year's Eve that he remembered most was the one that happened the night of December 31st, 1999.

Merlin went to the actual Isle that night, instead of staying on the mainland and looking at it from afar.

The year 2000. It had been so long since Camelot. So long since the last time he saw Arthur or Gaius or Gwen or the Knights or any of the Kings he advised. _So long_.

Merlin took down his disguise too, something he hadn't done for several decades. He stared at his reflection in the water, stared at his unchanged, young face. It was so strange seeing himself that way. Like… seeing a ghost.

Merlin sighed and looked out over the water. It was so beautiful there, it was hard to believe this is where Arthur had died.

"Over a thousand years have passed," Merlin said quietly, breaking the absolute silence that had settled over the area. "Some days… I can't remember Gwen's face. Or Gaius's voice. But…"

Merlin's eyes were wet, and his voice choked up with emotion. He stared at the water, knowing that Arthur's remains were down there somewhere.

"I… still… remember… the way the sunlight shone on your hair."

Merlin shut his eyes as tears began to fall, and he put back on his aged disguise. He didn't want to look at his young self any longer. It didn't feel right seeing himself like that, without Arthur by his side.

"I don't want to be alone anymore," he whispered, eyes still shut to the world. "Please come back."

…

 **REVIEW!**

 **I know this chapter is ridiculously depressing. I admit, I got a little teary while writing it. But, rest assured, it will get better. I just had to establish a background before I jumped into plot.**

 **By the way, I have to give credit to FandomUniverse_ on iFunny. That's where I got the quote, "Over a thousand years have passed. Some days I can't remember Gwen's face. Or Gauis's voice. But I still remember the way the sunlight shone on your hair." The first time I saw it, it absolutely destroyed me, and I had to include it here because it was so moving.**

 **Updates, in case you didn't already see, will be Tuesdays and Thursdays.**

 **Quick heads-up: This is going to be one of my longer stories. It'll be something like 30-35 chapters in total, all of them probably close to this length. So It'll end sometime mid-October. I promise it will be worth it. (Well, I think it will be. Otherwise, I wouldn't be writing it.)**


	2. Chapter 2

**NOTE: I am American, so I will inevitably screw up on some British terms. I've gotten a little bit better after doing a short collection of Johnlock oneshots, and am still working on a Harry Potter fanfic. That said, my understanding of British terminology is still shaky, so please let me know if you notice something off. Also, for non-British people like myself, I'll put a note at the top of chapters to define British terms that I use, just in case you aren't sure what it means.**

 **Today's British Glossary** **(in order of appearance)**

 **Secondary School: grades 6-12, a.k.a. middle and high school**

 **Polo: a sport similar to field hockey that's played on horseback**

 **Year Eleven: 11** **th** **grade**

…

 _ **Chapter 2**_

…

Bradley James wasn't really sure when he fell in love with the legends of King Arthur.

He'd been dreaming of Camelot since he was a kid, and couldn't remember a time when he hadn't obsessed over the mythology of early Britain. When had it all started? Had his parents read him a King Arthur story when he was young that caught his attention more than the other stories he had? It seemed like the most likely scenario, but when he asked his parents, they said they never owned a book on Arthurian legends.

That was just as well. The James family was relatively rich and influential in some areas of British politics, and they didn't have much time to be together. That's not to say that his parents weren't loving. They had a good relationship. Better than most of the other kids he knew that came from prominent families.

He guessed that it had been a teacher, or perhaps an old friend, who introduced him to King Arthur. Whatever it was had certainly stuck, which made it rather ironic that he didn't remember it.

All growing up, he'd spent most of his time thinking about King Arthur and the Knights of Camelot. When he turned ten years old, he started going by "Arthur", which was, ironically, his middle name.

In secondary school, when people started asking Arthur what he wanted to do for the rest of his life (which he always thought was a stupid thing to ask a 14 year-old), his mind immediately went to those Arthurian legends. He already studied them for fun, and he couldn't imagine how amazing it would be to make a career out of his love of King Arthur.

His parents thought that was silly, of course. They said he should go into business like them, or at least have a more solid plan than, "I want to study Camelot for a living."

His friends thought he should try to play polo professionally, since he was pretty good at it.

It was his history teacher, Mr. Beddor, who gave Arthur the guidance he needed.

He was in year eleven, just starting to think about going to University. Mr. Beddor had assigned an essay at the beginning of the year asking each student to tell him about something they were passionate about. Obviously, Arthur wrote about Camelot. He also mentioned in his essay that he wanted to study Arthurian legends more in-depth, possibly even as a living, but had no idea what kind of profession would involve researching King Arthur.

When he got his paper back, he got a stellar grade, but there was a note at the top of the grading sheet, which read, _Please see me after class_.

Arthur had nervously come up to Mr. Beddor's desk after class, asking, "You wanted to see me?"

"Arthur," Mr. Beddor had said warmly, "Wonderful. I really enjoyed your essay. I have to say, I don't often come across students so fired up about something. Were you serious about wanting to make a living off of studying the legends of Camelot?"

Arthur had nodded meekly.

"Then… would you ever consider teaching?"

Arthur had raised his eyebrows, interested. He hadn't even thought of that.

"I suppose I'm somewhat biased," Mr. Beddor had remarked with a slight laugh, "but I've found that one of the best ways to explore a passion is to teach others about it. When I was young, I loved learning about history, but everyone told me that that wouldn't get me a career. I proved them all wrong, though. And to me, there's no better feeling than passing on what I've learned, seeing the occasional spark in students who find parts of it interesting."

"That… that sounds incredible," Arthur had said, a smile lighting his face. "I can't believe I never thought of that. But what class would that be? I've definitely never had or heard of a King Arthur class."

"Mythology," Mr. Beddor had replied, after a brief pause. "Or Ancient Literature. Either would include more than just the Arthurian legends, of course, but they're still worth thinking about."

Arthur had nodded vigorously in agreement, "Absolutely!"

"If you ever need some advice, I'd be happy to help."

"Thanks."

That day, he'd gone home and informed his parents of his new career path. They still weren't entirely on board with the idea, but at least it was a valid future. His friends couldn't believe he'd want to return to school after spending so many years there already, but at least they gave up trying to convince him to play professional polo.

Arthur stuck with that decision. He worked hard in school, kept his grades up, and managed to get accepted into Oxford. He chose to major in education with a minor in English and another minor in folklore and mythology. He worked hard at that, too. Arthur wasn't one to give up on his dreams.

It was funny sometimes, though. No matter how much he studied, his dreams and daydreams still didn't always match what he knew. Things were different in his head, which sometimes made it difficult to keep the separate versions of the myths straight.

He told one of his girlfriends about that once, and she joked that they were memories from a past life.

He found out later she was right.

…

 **REVIEW!**

 **The next chapter will be VERY exciting, I guarantee it. Because, in the next chapter, these two points of view are coming together. Merlin and Arthur are about to meet.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Today's British Glossary** **(in order of appearance)**

 **Primary school: grades 1-5, a.k.a. elementary school**

…

 _ **Chapter 3**_

…

Merlin remembered the day it changed.

It was, as far as he could tell, just like any other day. He ate some cereal for breakfast, went out to garden, and then came back inside to shower away all the dirt he'd accumulated while outside.

But, when he was shampooing his hair, something felt off. It felt… weird. But he couldn't quite figure out why.

He got out of the shower still confused, and towel-dried off. He ran a hand through his hair slowly before letting it drop slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. His drew his hand forward, and as it brushed past his jaw, his eyes widened and he froze.

Merlin gently moved his hand again, his fingers brushing his jawline. Then he ran his hand through his hair again.

His hair… it felt weird because it was _longer_. Probably not by much, but after over a thousand years of not having your hair grow at all, you'd notice too. He was growing stubble as well.

Merlin knew what that meant.

 _Arthur had returned_.

…

*A YEAR LATER*

Arthur hated it when people called him Bradley. He'd been going by his middle name for over ten years, and it felt wrong now. He had loved getting his degree, but that was one thing he definitely didn't enjoy. Inevitably, in every new class, the teacher would call him Bradley for the first week, even after he corrected them. It was one of the things he was happy to leave behind now that he'd graduated.

His parents still worried about his future, but they grew more confident in him when they saw how hard he worked in school. He graduated a semester early, even. At graduation, his parents gave him probably the greatest gifts he had ever received: a vacation in Glastonbury.

Now, Glastonbury doesn't exactly sound exciting, but it's not what it seems. It's rumored to be the true location of Avalon. It was once surrounded by water, but over time that turned to marshland. Arthur had always wanted to see the town, but couldn't. It was almost four hours away from Manchester, where he grew up, and it was around three and a half hours from London, where he went to college. In both cases, he didn't have the time, let alone the money for gas and lodging.

Anyway, his parents set him up in a nice condo in Glastonbury for the two weeks after his 22nd birthday. It was great, and he loved visiting all the historical attractions. Afterward, he wanted to visit one of his friends from Oxford, Brad Prentice. He was a year older than Arthur, and he'd graduated the previous year. Now that Arthur had graduated, he needed to take his teaching exams to be certified. Since Brad had already done so, passed, and even gotten a job at a primary school in Wales, Arthur had asked if he could help him study a bit. Brad said he was happy to help.

So, right after his two-week vacation was over, Arthur went to the village of Sully. It took roughly 4 hours, but it wasn't all that bad. He took a bus to Bristol, and then took a ferry from there to Newport, so at least there was some scenery. Brad picked him up from Newport and drove home from there.

Sully turned out to be a quaint little town. There were lots of places outdoors where he could study, and Brad showed him the sights. He also got to meet Brad's girlfriend, Carly, who was really sweet. On the last day of his week there, Carly came over again, and the three of them played a few games together.

Partway through a game of Monopoly, Carly asked, "Have you taken him to Swanbridge yet?"

Brad smacked his face with his hand, "Oh my God! I was gonna do that this morning, so you could see it when the sun rises…"

"Too late for that," Arthur said with a laugh.

"What time are you leaving, again?" Brad asked.

"It doesn't really matter. Cardiff's only, what, 20 minutes away? As long as I get there before 8pm, I should be good. That's when the office closes."

Brad nodded. "Okay. Is all your stuff moved in, or…?"

"I moved everything in right after graduation. My parents came down for my birthday and helped out a little. They weren't sure about it at first, since it's far, but London was further, so they can't complain that much."

"You found a job yet?"

Arthur shook his head. "Not yet. Hopefully soon."

"Uh, guys?" Carly interrupted. "Swanbridge. Remember?"

"Right. Well, we can plan on getting there a little before sunset. It's a thirty minute walk from here, and you can get from there to the bus station in like five minutes."

"Sounds good to me. Uh… what is Swanbridge?"

Brad and Carly both laughed. "It's the beach."

"Oh. Well, that sounds even cooler now."

The three of them wrapped up their Monopoly game (Arthur won), and then set out for the beach. Fortunately, Arthur had packed light for his two weeks in Glastonbury and week in Sully, so it wasn't much of a bother to carry it.

The whole way there, Carly had gushed about how pretty Sully Island looked over the water at sunrise and sunset. She hadn't been exaggerating. It really was amazing.

The three of them visited a while longer, and then Brad said he should be getting home before it got completely dark. Arthur said goodbye and then stared out over the water for a while. But then he noticed a man staring at him, an old man with long white hair.

He walked over to the guy to confront him. He didn't really like being stared at.

"It's you," the man breathed, eyes wide and shocked.

Arthur squinted at him. Maybe the man was senile. "Listen, sir, I don't know who you are, but I don't appreciate the staring, okay? Can you…" he trailed off, suddenly realizing the man actually looked familiar. "Wait. I _have_ seen you before… but…" Arthur's eyes widened, realizing where he'd seen the man before. Or, more accurately, that he hadn't ever met him in person.

He'd _dreamed_ of him. The old man had been in his King Arthur dreams since he was a little kid.

"That's not possible," he muttered. He searched his brain for a name. "The Great… Dragoon? No. It's… Emrys? No. It's… it's… Merlin. Wait, MERLIN?"

…

It had been over a year since Merlin had begun aging again, and he's been coming to the Isle of the Blessed every single day. He was so sure that this is where he'd find Arthur. In what condition, he wasn't sure.

Merlin couldn't believe his eyes when he saw Arthur. He thought he had to be seeing things. He couldn't even move. After all this time, could it be him?

He was wearing modern clothes, but it _had_ been a year. He would've had to find a way to blend in.

When Arthur turned around, Merlin's doubts left him. It was him. It was definitely him.

But then, Arthur was confused about who Merlin was. And Merlin realized Arthur had come back different than he'd expected. He had returned new, remade. He's lived an ordinary life for a while. Merlin guessed he was in his early twenties, and then it occurred to him that perhaps he'd started aging when Arthur turned 21 and became a man. That would make him 22 now.

Merlin's job was going to be a lot harder than he'd expected.

The second Arthur finally got his name right, Merlin grinned and glanced around. The beach was deserted. He shut his eyes and let his disguise fall away.

When he opened his eyes again, Arthur was gaping at him, mouth hanging open and eyes bugging out of his head. "What the… who are… how did you…" he stammered.

Merlin laughed. "Arthur. I am _so_ happy to see you. How much do you remember?"

"What do you mean, 'What do I remember'? And how do you know my name?"

"How did you know _my_ name?" Merlin countered.

"I… but those are dreams! THEY'RE JUST DREAMS!"

"Are they?" Merlin asked with a mischievous smile.

Merlin could tell Arthur was panicking. "What… what else could they be? How is this happening? How can you be here? You're not even real! Oh God, I've gone mad, haven't I?"

Merlin shook his head slowly. He reached forward slowly and set a hand on Arthur's shoulder. The blonde flinched at the touch, but he didn't move.

"I'm real," Merlin assured him. "And you're not crazy. I think we need to talk."

…

 **REVIEW!**

 **Oh man, Thursday's chapter is going to be** _ **so much fun**_ **.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Today's British Glossary** **(in order of appearance)**

 **Flat: apartment**

…

 _ **Chapter 4**_

…

"How much do you know about the legends of King Arthur?" Merlin asked.

Arthur looked like he'd been shot. "I… that's kind of what I majored in…"

Merlin was pleasantly surprised to hear that. "Great. Then you know King Arthur is fated to return. Well…" he trailed off and gestured to Arthur.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Merlin shook his head. "No jokes. You're Arthur Pendragon. And I'm Merlin."

"But… Arthur isn't even my name! My first name is Bradley! I only started going by Arthur because I liked the myths so much."

"Speaking of, how did you get so interested in Arthurian legends?" Merlin asked.

"I don't know, I just… I've been dreaming about King Arthur since I was a kid."

"In your dreams, who did you see as King Arthur?"

Arthur shrugged. "No one. It was always from my point of view."

"Exactly. That's because they weren't just dreams. They were _memories_."

Arthur shook his head vehemently. "NO. They're dreams. _This_ is a dream. It has to be. I… Camelot isn't even real!"

Merlin rolled his eyes at the blond. "Arthur, you're being a prat. Camelot is a part of you and me. Why else would you have come to the Isle of the Blessed?"

"The what? Do you mean Avalon?" Arthur glanced out at Sully Island. "Are you saying that's Avalon?"

"You could say that. I don't remember ever using that word, but I suppose it's all the same. You died here over a thousand years ago."

"I didn't! That didn't happen! I was born twenty-two years ago in Manchester! Not Camelot!"

Merlin groaned internally. He'd never anticipated having to convince Arthur who he was. He hadn't exactly prepared for this.

"Do you believe in magic?" he suddenly asked.

"Is that a joke?"

"No. I'm serious. Do you?"

"Of course not!" Arthur shouted.

"You just saw me turn from an old man into a young one. How do you explain that?"

"It's a dream. None of this is real."

"It is."

"Prove it," Arthur challenged.

Merlin considered. "Alright. Give me your hand."

"Uh, no. I don't think so."

"If it's a dream, I can't hurt you," Merlin said mockingly.

Arthur growled and stuck his hand out. "Fine."

Merlin grabbed Arthur's hand, and got a slip of paper from the bus depot with his other hand. He slid it across Arthur's palm in one quick motion.

"Holy shit!" Arthur cried, yanking his hand away.

"Don't be so dramatic. It's a papercut."

Arthur huffed and shot him a dirty look.

"You're not dreaming, Arthur. Here, let me…" he reached for Arthur's hand, but the man jerked backwards.

"Hell no!"

"I'm going to heal it," Merlin said with a slight sigh. "Come on, don't be such a baby."

Arthur reluctantly held his hand out. There was a long line across it where blood was beading. Merlin looked down on it, eyes flashing gold, and the cut vanished.

He looked back at Arthur, who was staring at his hand incredulously.

"You actually did it. But… that's impossible. Right?"

In answer, Merlin did a little more magic. He picked out a stick and willed it to move over the sound, spelling out a message.

…

Arthur watched the stick's progress with trepidation. He didn't like any of this. Not one bit. It was weird enough seeing some guy that he'd only dreamed about, but this was absolute insanity.

He rubbed the palm of his hand, having trouble believing there had been a cut there seconds ago, and that Merlin had just… fixed it.

Finally, the stick stilled and dropped. The message read:

 _You are the once and future king. The future is now._

Arthur looked back at Merlin. This was too surreal. It had to be a dream, but he knew it wasn't. It's hard to say how he knew, he just did.

Merlin's eyes flashed gold again and Arthur watched sand swirl up, forming the image of a horse rearing and then running forward. It surged away from the pair and galloped toward the water before breaking apart. The particles blew away, and it was like the thing had never existed.

Could this all be some elaborate hoax? Some sort of magic trick?

Maybe I needed some kind of test.

It hit me then, the perfect test. The one thing I held all the cards on was my dreams.

"If you want to prove to me that you are who you say you are, I've got a way for you to do that," I said.

"What, then?" Merlin asked eagerly.

"I want you to describe people to me. People from my dreams. I'll give you a name and you give me a description. You may know everything about Arthurian legends and illusions, but I know you haven't been inside my mind."

"I'll do my best, but it _has_ been over a thousand years," Merlin replied.

"Sure. Well, first, tell me about Morgana."

"Morgana. Okay. Her eyes were green. Sort of minty, I think. Her hair was long and dark brown. She used to have it curled, back before it all went wrong. When she turned against Camelot, she started leaving it wild and unkempt. But I suppose she was always beautiful, at least on the outside. Her inside was beautiful once, but it grew ugly. Sometimes I wonder if I could've stopped it."

Merlin was spot-on, which freaked Arthur out a little, but he decided to just go onto the next one.

"What about my supposed father? Uther?"

Merlin frowned. "He was… certain of himself. I think he wanted to do the right thing, but he didn't much like listening. As far as his appearance… well, his hair was always cut very short. When I knew him, it was grey. His eyes were pale blue, I think."

Merlin was two for two.

"How about Gaius?"

Merlin suddenly looked down. "Gaius… Gaius was like a father to me. He was one of the best men I ever knew. He was fair and smart, and he looked out for me. I did a lot of stupid things, but he was always there to back me up. Saved my life and yours more than once. Oh, and his eyes were blue. Hair was sort of long and white. He had one eye that sort of… drooped. I can't remember which one."

Three for three.

"And Guinivere?"

Merlin laughed, but his eyes were cloudy. "I forgot you called her that. Gwen was beautiful in every way. Her skin was tanned, and her eyes were a deep brown. Her hair was dark brown and curly like Morgana's, and it grew quite long over time. And she is probably the kindest person I have ever met. She was also brave and loyal and fair. She was fit to be queen."

And four for four.

Merlin suddenly move his hands to his face, drawing them across his eyes. Arthur's eyebrows drew together, confused. Had Merlin been crying?

"Are you alright?" he asked uncertainly.

Merlin looked at him sadly. "It never gets any easier. Gwen and Gaius… well, to you right now, they're fictional characters, figments of your imagination. Just dreams. But they were my friends. My family. They were everything to me. They were all that to you too, you just don't realize it. But you never had to lose them. I haven't aged since your death. So I had to watch them all die. Everyone I ever cared about, everyone I ever loved. I've been waiting all this time… for you."

Arthur didn't know what to say to that. Either Merlin was a very good actor or…

Or this was real.

"Please," Merlin urged, "I know it seems crazy, but you have to believe me. You never listened to me before, but I'm begging you to listen now. The world needs you. _I_ need you. You're all I have left."

"I…" Arthur looked at Merlin's face and he couldn't see any trace of deceit. He was genuine, as far as Arthur could tell.

"I don't really know what to think right now," Arthur admitted. "It's late, and I have to get back to my flat in Cardiff because I'm supposed to check in with the office tonight. This is a lot to take in. But, against my better judgement, I trust you. So I'm willing to give this a try."

"You believe me?" Merlin asked, wide-eyed.

"I don't know what I believe. Everything I know says this can't be true, but _that_ feels like the lie. I have a lot of things in my head that I've got to sort through."

"Where does that leave us?"

Arthur looked up at the now-dark sky, wondering if he really was crazy.

"I want you to come back to my flat with me. You can stay the night and we'll get some sleep. We can talk more in the morning. Beyond that, I don't know."

Merlin smiled. "Well, I guess that's that. I suppose we should be going, then?"

"I guess so."

…

 **REVIEW!**

 **By the way, I should probably note that Arthur and Merlin may be a little different here than they were on the show. That's because they're kind of different people. Arthur is kind of unsure because he's having to come to terms with a whole new reality, and Merlin is more serious because he's been around for centuries and has been alone for most of that time.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry this is a bit late! I spent yesterday marathon-watching Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. with my friend, and I totally forgot that I still hadn't written this chapter. YIKES! I wrote this as fast as I could so I could upload it.**

 **Today's British Glossary** **(in order of appearance)**

 **Flat: apartment**

…

 _ **Chapter 5**_

…

Merlin thought Arthur's flat was quite nice.

They got there just before 8 o'clock and dropped by the main office right away. Arthur let the receptionist know that he was back and got his keys. Apparently, though he'd moved his things in several weeks earlier, he'd spent Christmas with his parents and had decided to leave the keys with the office instead of trying to keep track of them. His next monthly payment was also going to be due in the next few days, and the receptionist reminded him of that.

Anyway, they got in, and Arthur immediately went to his kitchen, starting up the coffeemaker.

"Coffee?" Merlin remarked. "Isn't that more of an American thing?"

Arthur shrugged. "I've never been a big fan of tea. Besides, I want to be wide awake. Right now, I'm far too curious to go to sleep, but much too tired to think straight."

Merlin couldn't have been more awake, himself. He'd been waiting centuries for this.

Arthur's coffee finished brewing and he poured a generous amount into a thermos, adding a bit of sugar but no cream.

"I like it hot," he explained, taking a sip of the steaming liquid.

He gestured for them to sit in the living area, where a loveseat and armchair sat. Merlin wasn't sure which to sit in, so he waited for Arthur to choose. Arthur stretched out on the loveseat, so Merlin took the armchair.

"So. Merlin. You've succeeded in passing every test I've come up with so far. But I still have my doubts, which I think is fair considering I'd have to be mad to just believe everything you've been telling me. I know I said we'd talk in the morning, but I don't think I can wait that long. I need to know more."

"I'll do my best." Merlin told him.

"Okay. Well… show me your magic again. I know you can't have rigged any tricks here, so we can start with that."

Merlin nodded. He wondered what Arthur would want him to do, and decided to go simple.

Arthur had several picture frames in the room. So Merlin moved them. He directed them up first, towards the ceiling. Then he let them plummet down, but stopped them before they touched the ground. Then he stacked them up on the coffee table like a house of cards.

Arthur watched every movement with wide eyes. He moved forward to touch the structure once it settled and accidentally knocked the structure over. But Merlin caught the frames before they broke, freezing them in position. He glanced at Arthur, who wore an amused and slightly bewildered smile. Merlin took that as a sign he could put the frames back, and he did.

"Hopefully, I put those back where they belong," he said to Arthur. "But I might have switched a few around."

"That was incredible," Arthur breathed. "I can't believe… well, it's hard to believe. But I guess I kind of have to, after that."

As an extra demonstration, Merlin used magic to tie Arthur's shoelaces together. Arthur's brow furrowed, probably noticing Merlin's gold eyes more than the subtle feeling of his shoelaces moving.

"What are you doing?" he asked, confirming Merlin's suspicions.

"Look at your feet."

Arthur looked down, and started laughing.

"This is insane. I just… wow."

Merlin smiled. Arthur… the _old_ Arthur… hadn't really gotten a chance to understand his magic. He certainly never looked at magic with awe like _new_ Arthur did.

"Any other tests for me?" Merlin asked.

"Uh…" Arthur paused, and then finally decided, "Yes. I want you to tell me about how we met. Before."

"Okay. Well… I was new to town. I didn't know you were the prince. I think you were bullying one of the servants and I called you an ass. You didn't take it very well. I ended up in the stocks."

Arthur laughed. "Yes you did, didn't you? And after that…?"

Merlin remembered their next interaction rather well.

"I think it was the next day. I was minding my own business and you goaded me into a fight. What was it you said? Something about you destroying me with one blow. And I said I could do it with less than one blow. That was the first time I called you a prat, too. I almost won that fight. I would've if it weren't for Gaius showing up."

"Yeah, but you cheated," Arthur told him. "You used magic."

"That's not cheating," Merlin argued. "I was using my natural talents, just like you were."

Arthur rolled his eyes, but didn't comment.

There was a pause while Merlin waited for Arthur's next test.

"It's strange," Arthur finally said, "because I know just met you, but I feel like I've known you for years already."

"You have. Just in another life."

…

Arthur's mind was struggling to comprehend everything. But he was also running out of tests for Merlin. The guy knew all the details of his dreams. And suddenly, he found himself asking how he remembered those dreams so vividly, but not others that he'd had. Was that normal?

He put that out of his head and said, "Tell me about Mordred. What was he like?"

"He was young when we met him. Bright blue eyes and dark hair. He and his father came to Camelot, and his father didn't make it. You, me, Gwen, and Morgana helped him escape. You took some convincing, but he was just a kid. The Great Dragon told me he would be your doom then, but I couldn't just leave him. He grew up with the Druids, and learned from them. He was, for the most part, a good person. He was brave and he was loyal to you when you made him a Knight. He knew I was a sorcerer and he kept that secret. But I never trusted him."

Merlin paused, and Arthur asked, "What about the end?"

"He was in love. But the girl… she hated you. She threatened all of Camelot, so you did what you had to do. Mordred couldn't forgive that, so he allied himself with Morgana. I don't know much after that. I made it to the battlefield but by the time I got to you…" Merlin trailed off, and Arthur could see it hurt to talk about.

"I could have saved you," Merlin said quietly. "If I had called him sooner, you would have made it."

"Who?"

"The Great Dragon. Kilgharrah. If I had called him sooner, we could have made it to the Isle, but I didn't think of it until it was too late. I think about that every day. Your death is on my hands."

Arthur shook his head and stood, moving close to Merlin. He set his hand on the sorcerer's shoulder.

"It isn't. It was meant to happen, Merlin. It was prophesized. And it doesn't matter anymore. If I am who you say I am, then I guess I'm… 'back'. And that was meant to happen too."

Arthur then moved back to the loveseat and sat down.

Merlin sighed. "It's been a long time, Arthur. I know it was prophesized, and it was supposed to happen, but I would give anything to go back and stop it. You don't know what it was like to go back to Camelot and tell them all that you had died."

Suddenly, Arthur's eyes widened, as something occurred to him that he hadn't really thought about before. "Gwen. Oh God. What happened to her?"

Merlin looked down. "She… it was hard for her. But she continued. Never remarried. She was Camelot's first queen to rule alone, but no one ever questioned her because she was so… I don't know. She was a good ruler. She lived a long time. I made sure of that. She dies of old age ultimately. It was peaceful."

Arthur's eyes were hot, and his chest constricted. He blinked, and liquid ran down his cheek. He reached up to brush away the tear.

Suddenly, his dreams of Guinivere didn't seem like dreams anymore. She was all too real. And he remembered the way he'd felt about her. That was real too.

"I loved her. I really loved her. I remember it."

It was a hard dose of reality, suddenly realizing that all his dreams were full of real people he'd known and cared for. And now, every one of them was dead. Arthur put his head in his hands, the lines between reality and imagination blurring in his mind.

"It's the kind of thing you don't really get over," Merlin said sympathetically. "You just have to live with it."

…

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	6. Chapter 6

**I can't believe how long it's been since I updated.**

 **I started college in September and kept thinking I'd settle in and get back to routine. Time just flew by. Fall quarter ended, I went home for Christmas, and I was still too busy to write. Now, winter quarter has also passed, and I'm starting spring quarter. I managed to do a bit of writing over beak, just enough to get me started again. So I've started to just get going again, even though I have other things I have to do. I want to finish this story (and my others), and I don't want to let any of you down. It's been eating me up inside that I've left you all hanging for so long, and I cannot begin to express how sorry I am for that. This happened once before, with my first fanfic, and I swore I'd never let it happen again. I hate that I failed in that.**

 **In any case, this story will resume. To be more realistic, I will be updating just once a week, on Wednesdays.**

 **Again, I'm so sorry for the delay, and I hope you enjoy the rest of this story. I swear to you, I will finish it, and I won't leave you hanging again. However, once I finish this, I'll probably take a break from fanfiction for a while. I'll still write, but I don't think I'll start posting until I've gotten into a routine, or have a complete story already.**

 **-Joanna Jade**

 **Today's British Glossary** **(in order of appearance)**

 **Flat: apartment**

 **Toilet: bathroom**

…

 _ **Chapter 6**_

…

Merlin woke up late in the day. He was used to being able to sleep as long as he wanted, so over time, he'd become a pretty deep sleeper.

He was almost afraid to open his eyes when his consciousness finally arose, afraid he'd find out that he'd only dreamt of meeting Arthur. But when he finally opened his blue eyes, he found himself curled up on Arthur's loveseat, as he'd hoped. His body was rather stiff from the rather confining position he'd slept in, but he didn't mind much.

"Oh, you're up. You hungry? I made sandwiches."

Merlin laughed just slightly, a wide smile forming. Arthur's voice. There were times he thought he'd never hear it again. And here it was, offering to serve him breakfast.

"I'd love one," Merlin said gratefully, joining Arthur in the kitchen.

They ate a rather quiet late lunch together, neither entirely sure what to say.

Finally, Merlin spoke. "You know… I knew you before, but I'd like to know more about your life now. What are your parents like? And what was it like growing up with them? What sort of job do you have?"

Arthur smiled a bit. "I didn't really think about that. Okay, well… my parents are lawyers, so they're pretty well-off. I didn't see them tons when I was growing up; they were always working. But they were never cold to me, they treated me well and encouraged me to follow my talents. I'm sure they would've preferred that I become a lawyer or a doctor, or maybe even an athlete. But I was far more interested in Camelot. At university, I studied education and got a minor in English and another in folklore and mythology. So my goal is to teach mythology or something. I don't actually have a job yet, but hopefully I will soon. I just need to take my teaching exams, which I'll be doing in a few weeks."

Merlin nodded, then hesitantly asked, "Forgive me if I'm overstepping my bounds, but… How can you afford this place when you don't have a job?"

Arthur blushed. "Oh. That. Well… since my parents have so much money, they sort of insisted on paying for everything until I get on my feet. At first I thought it was great, but more and more, I just feel guilty. It'll be nice when I finally get a job. What about you?"

Merlin frowned, "What _about_ me?"

"I mean, where do you live? What do you do for a living?"

Merlin shrugged, "I've been around. Done a lot of farm work. Nothing too exciting."

Arthur nodded, then stood and moved to take he and Merlin's plates.

"Oh, I can do that," Merlin said. He used magic to quickly pick up the plates and clean them up, while Arthur watched in awe. Merlin then set the clean plates on the kitchen counter, telling Arthur, "I'd put them away, but I don't know where they go."

Arthur shook his head in wonderment and laughed, picking up the plates to put them in the right place.

"Magic is amazing."

After the plates were back where they belonged, Arthur offered to give Merlin a tour of his flat. He'd only just moved in, but nearly everything was already set up.

There was a small but functional kitchen, which of course Merlin had already seen. There was a small nook next to it, which Arthur had set up as a dining room. Then there was the living room, which held a seating area and TV, along with an impressive movie collection. Down a hallway were two bedrooms and an ordinary-looking toilet. One of the bedrooms was, of course, Arthur's. In it was a large bed, a dresser, and various other amenities. The other bedroom was what Arthur called his "junk room". It held a desk with a computer and some office supplies, several bookshelves, some unpacked boxes, and other things like fencing equipment and board games.

"You fence?" Merlin asked curiously.

"Yeah. I ride horses too. I got into it because of how into the legends of Camelot I was, but I got pretty good. I'd love to own my own horse, but I couldn't ask my parents for that kind of gift, especially because I don't know how much time I'll have to take care of an animal once I start working."

Merlin nodded, and then followed Arthur back down the hallway. However, he paused when a piece of fabric caught his eye.

It looked to be a flag of some sort, which Arthur had tacked to the hallway's wall as a decoration. In its center was a thick purple stripe, which was bordered on one side by a pink stripe and on the other side by a blue stripe. Merlin looked at the flag curiously, as he felt he should recognize it, but couldn't.

Arthur finally noticed that Merlin wasn't behind him and turned around.

"What's this?" Merlin asked him.

Arthur blushed a tad bit and hesitantly said, "It's… well it's the bisexual flag. 'Cause I'm bi. You know, I… I like both girls and guys."

Merlin raised his eyebrows, surprised. "Oh. Have you always been that way?"

"Well, yeah. I realized when I…" he paused. "Wait, do you mean before?"

Merlin shrugged noncommittally.

"I guess I don't really know," Arthur admitted. "I remember events pretty well, but the feelings are harder to access."

"Huh."

"Are you?"

Merlin was taken aback by the blunt question. It took him a moment to answer. "I don't… I've never really thought about it. Why?"

"Just wondering," Arthur said, but Merlin sensed there was another reason. He didn't press the blonde man, though. It likely wasn't important. If it was, it'd come out in its own time.

"I should go home soon," he said instead. "But I'd like to come back tomorrow, maybe. I think we should work on helping you… remember. Would that work for you?"

"Sure. Do you need me to call a cab or something?"

Merlin grinned wryly. "Need? No. I often use public transportation, but I can find my own way home."

And, with a wink of a gold-ringed eye, he disappeared.

…

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	7. Chapter 7

**I apologize for this chapter being a bit late. I honestly forgot what day it was until right before bed yesterday, but it was too late to update then. I had to do some research into the original legends of Camelot before I could write as well, so it took longer than usual. Anyhow, enjoy!**

 **P.S. THIS CHAPTER IS SUPER LONG!**

 **Today's British Glossary** **(in order of appearance)**

 **Flat: apartment**

…

 _ **Chapter 7**_

…

Merlin came back to Arthur's flat the next day and Arthur grinned when he heard the knock at his door, knowing it had to be him. A part of him still felt like all of this was a dream, and yet… it also felt right. Like he'd always known, deep down, that this was the truth.

"'Morning," he said cheerfully to the sorcerer in his doorway.

"Good morning," Merlin replied, smiling.

They sat in the living room together, Arthur settling into the loveseat once again and Merlin taking the armchair opposite him.

"I know you wanted to help me remember today," Arthur said, "but I actually had something different in mind."

Merlin raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, waiting for Arthur to continue.

"Well, the thing is, I think all the memories are in there, but they're jumbled because I get them confused with what I've learned about the legends of Camelot. There's as many differences as there are similarities, and I think it would be really helpful to start by sorting out which is which. You know, what really happened. Then maybe I can remember everything in more detail."

Merlin nodded. "Okay. Do you many me to give you a history lesson, or…?"

"Actually, I was thinking we'd play a game."

"A game?"

"Have you read _The Hunger Games_?"

"Have I… what? What does that have to do with anything?

"Just answer the question," Arthur said.

Merlin rolled his eyes and said, "No, I haven't. I haven't really kept up with modern literature."

"Okay, well, there's this guy Peeta, and he's been sort of brainwashed. He's got all these memories that aren't real crammed in with the ones that are real, and he can't tell which is which. So he plays this sort of game with this girl Katniss where he tells her a fact and asks whether it's real or not real, and she tells him. Sometimes she gives more detail too."

"So you're Peeta and I'm Katniss?" Merlin asked with a chuckle.

"Well… basically, yeah. Do you think that'd work?"

Merlin considered for a moment, then said, "I think that's a great idea. So what do you need cleared up?"

"Well, I was thinking we'd start with the "sword in the stone". I pulled Excalibur out of stone… real or not real?"

"Real," Merlin told him. "Though I believe your legends say it was to establish you as king. Really, it was to demonstrate to the people around you that you were worthy of being king. And to restore your faith in yourself. But… I actually staged the whole thing."

"What?" Arthur asked, incredulous.

"Yeah. I made the legend up. Everyone was losing heart, and I had to do something. It worked."

Arthur nodded slowly and moved to his next question. "I had a literal round table that I sat at with my knights… real or not real?"

"Real. That was some time after you became king and decided to disregard heritage and choose your knights according to their qualities alone. It was a bold move, but effective."

Arthur smiled. "So, the Holy Grail. I searched for it… real or not real?"

Merlin snorted. "Not at all. That thing's a myth. I mean, I came across this other cup that was kind of similar, but it came with a pretty steep price."

Arthur gave him a questioning look.

"Well, you could save a person from death, but someone else had to die first," Merlin told him, but he didn't elaborate any further.

"Okay. Let's see… oh yeah. I grew up… in the castle. With my father. Real or not real?"

Merlin looked confused. "Real…" he said slowly, eyebrows drawn together as he wondered why Arthur would ask that. Then it seemed to dawn on him and he laughed, "Oh, right. Obviously. The legends say I raised you, right? That your father died when you were a child."

Arthur nodded.

"Well, you grew up as a prince. A prat, really," he added with a smirk. "And we were in our early twenties, I think, when we met. Your father died a few years after that, after he'd been stabbed. You tried to get a sorcerer to save him. Me, actually, but you didn't know that. But there was a spell on him, it reversed the healing spell I tried to use and it ended up killing him instead." Merlin frowned. "I thought I'd made a mistake for a while. Didn't figure out until later what had happened. I never liked Uther, but I didn't mean to kill him. I suppose he would have died anyways, but… I still felt awful. Especially because I'd blown my chance to give you both an appreciation for magic."

"It wasn't your fault," Arthur said sympathetically. "And you were right to try." He paused for a few moments, then said, "I didn't know you had magic. Real or not real?"

Merlin hesitated. "Kind of… both? I used magic in secret for a long time. You didn't know until I told you about it right before… before…" he trailed off, unable to say the words.

"Before I died," Arthur finished, and Merlin looked away.

Arthur wasn't really sure how to comfort the sorcerer, so he simply continued the game. "My parents were Uther and Ygraine. And my mother – Ygraine – she…" he paused, as this was one point that his mind had trouble with. "She was married to somebody else… but my father wanted an heir so he tricked her… and then I was born. Real or not real?"

"Not real," Merlin answered. "Uther and Ygraine were married, and from what I gathered, very fond of one another. But there was still the issue of your birth. Ygraine couldn't have children, so they asked a sorceress – Nimueh – for help. She helped, but… well, it was like the cup. Magic has a… a balance. You can't use it to create life or sustain it without destroying a life. So you were born, but Ygraine died."

"Oh."

"It broke Uther's heart, I think. He didn't understand the price when he asked for Nimueh's help. But he blamed her, and magic altogether. That's why he hated it that much. That's why he… why he killed them all."

"The Great Purge," Arthur said, pulling the words from some part of his memory. "He executed everyone with magic. Right? Real or not real?"

"Real. It's why it was so important for me to keep my powers secret."

Arthur nodded. "Okay. Then, Mordred was _not_ my son or nephew… real or not real?"

"Real. You weren't related at all. Morgana was quite fond of him, but I think she treated him more like a brother than a son."

"Speaking of Morgana… she was my half-sister… real or not real?"

"Real. She was Uther's daughter, born sometime after Ygraine died. She was kind when I met her. Gentle. Compassionate. But I think she felt betrayed by her family and then isolated because of her magic and it just… ruined her. But her actions were her own, and she did a lot of evil."

Arthur conjured up an image of the dark-haired Morgana, and his heart felt heavy. Merlin's words rung true with him. He moved on to his next question. "And Gaius was the court physician. Real or not real?"

"Real."

No further explanation was needed, so Arthur continued. "You fell in love with a sorceress that didn't love you as much as she let on, and she managed to trap you to go… well, I don't quite remember what. Real or not real?"

"Not real. I mean, there was… someone… but it wasn't like that. She wasn't exactly a sorceress, but she was a druid. She didn't ever try to trap me, though," he said with a laugh.

Arthur quirked up an eyebrow with a sly smile. "Who's this 'someone'? Did I know her?"

"No. Her name was Freya. She died. Story for another time."

Arthur held up his hands in surrender, and moved on. "Okay, then what about Gwen? You had acrush on her… real or not real?"

Merlin laughed loudly. "Gwen? Not at all. Not real. We were good friends, that's all. Though I think one time I revealed my magic to save her from being killed, and you said it was because I was stupid in love. Little did you know I was telling the truth."

Arthur snorted. "Well, you'll find my reincarnated self to be a bit more perceptive."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

"Sure. Well, Gwen, then. She was the blacksmith's daughter and Morgana's handmaiden… real or not real?"

"Real."

"Then there was… Lancelot. He loved her. Real or not real?"

"Real. But she didn't… well, she did love him at first, I think. But she came to love you far more than she ever loved him."

"She cheated on me with him. Real or not real?"

Merlin frowned. "Well… real. Kind of. Technically, yes. They kissed. But Gwen was under an enchantment, and Lancelot wasn't even Lancelot, he was just a shade. Gwen didn't know what she was doing. But no one knew then what happened and it couldn't be proven, so you exiled her. You reunited later, and I think you finally managed to forgive her, and then you got married."

Arthur nodded. "Let's see, next is… Mordred. He's the one that killed me. Real or not real?"

Merlin looked down again. He spoke softly. "Real. He stabbed you with a sword forged in dragon's breath. A shard broke off and went to your heart. You killed him before that."

"But he was one of my knights. Real or not real?"

"He was. Good and loyal, too. He saved your life a few times. He left because of love. He was angry because you killed the girl he loved. You had to, though."

"Mordred wasn't trying to take over Camelot, though, like the legends say," Arthur mused. "He just wanted revenge. Real or not real?"

"Real. It was Morgana who wanted to take over Camelot. I killed her."

Merlin's voice had gotten quieter and quieter, but his last sentence sparked with fury.

"I guess that's it," he decided, "At least for now. Any other trivia for me?" he asked lightheartedly.

Merlin took a few moments to respond. "My father had magic. He was a dragonlord, and so am I. I'm the last, actually. But there are no more dragons, so it doesn't matter anymore."

"What's a dragonlord?"

"It's… well it means you can talk to dragons in their language. And they have to obey you."

"That's cool."

"I guess."

"Anything else?"

"Well, Gaius had magic. You never knew, obviously. You and your father knew that he had a lot of knowledge about magic, but he could actually use it too. He just didn't much. Thought he could do more good by mentoring me instead."

A bittersweet smile crossed Merlin's face, and Arthur suggested they take a break for lunch. Hopefully, he could cheer the sorcerer up a bit.

Clearly, Merlin was still hurting from all he'd lost. He wasn't drowning in grief or anything like that, but a deep sort of sadness clung to him whenever he talked about certain parts of the past, likely because he hadn't ever had to talk about the before.

But just like Merlin was helping Arthur to realize his potential, Arthur was going to help Merlin find genuine happiness.

He was certain of it.

…

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	8. AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hey All!

I feel really bad about just putting up an Author's Note, but bear with me here.

With all that's going on this summer, I can't realistically update every week. I didn't realize my life would get MORE hectic during summer, but it did. Since my plans for this story are a lot simpler, less hashed-out than most of my other stories, each chapter is uncharacteristically difficult to write and takes up a large span of time.

I'm not giving up on this story, but I am saying I will no longer be making regular updates. I may update a few times this summer, however, likely not very much. I will try to return to regular updates in the fall.

Again, I apologize that this update is an A/N rather than a chapter, But I don't have any content or you and I thought you all should know what's going on.

Thanks for your patience!

-Joanna Jade


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